


to fear death is only to think ourselves wise, without being wise

by gillywulf



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Compliant, Canon Continuation, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 16:40:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17791001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gillywulf/pseuds/gillywulf
Summary: For the most part, she was quiet.She never raised her hand in class and she never spoke to anyone. You only even knew her name because the professor took roll on the first day.Kassandra.orKassandra tries to fill her last year before Layla.





	to fear death is only to think ourselves wise, without being wise

**Author's Note:**

> this is self indulgent

For the most part, she was quiet.

 

She never raised her hand in class and she never spoke to anyone. You only even knew her name because the professor took roll on the first day.

 

Kassandra.

 

Her wardrobe was fairly innocuous, with plain grey and white t-shirts under a fleece lined denim jacket. The bag she slung over her shoulder was just about as eye catching as her clothes and she moved in way that hinted at a surety no one could touch. It was pretty clear she didn't want to be noticed. 

 

But she was peculiar, too, in ways you’re not sure anyone but yourself realized. She sat directly behind you and most of the time she’d sit there silently, taking notes maybe every twenty minutes. However, every now and again, you'd hear a quiet scoff or a low growl in response to something to professor wrote on the board. You could hear her mumble to herself in different languages (Greek you think was the most common, but you'd heard Japanese, Portuguese, Arabic, and possibly Norse?) that most of the time you couldn't even identify. You didn't really think a history course would earn that kind of commentary.

 

She never did group projects either. When the professor told them all to select a few people to work with for the week, she would slip out of the lecture hall until the day the project finished. Then she'd be back like nothing happened.

 

The woman was unbearably intriguing.

 

So it surprised everyone when the professor assigned partners for the biggest project of the year. Even more so when her name was spoken in conjunction with yours. You turned in your seat with the most charming smile you could manage only to find Kassandra glaring at the professor, her jaw locked tight and her hands clenched into fists.

 

"Hello," you greeted through the confusion, "I believe I'm your partner." Her gaze swung to you, dropping all of the animosity she'd directed to the front of the room. She nodded with a slow breath.

 

"Yes, I believe so." It's the first time you'd heard her speak out loud or in English and it almost startled you. Her voice was deeper than you'd expected, and her accent was hard to place. And really that in conjunction with everything else about her was incredibly hot. It was terribly unfair to everyone else in the room that she could look and sound like that. She answered your questions softly when you asked about her availability to work on the project and she even offered up her own flat as a meeting place. You recognized the address as a place just outside of town, far beyond the limits of where most students typically lived and afforded. But Kassandra was clearly a non traditional student, so maybe money was less of an issue for her than a typical student.

 

It isn’t until you stood on the sidewalk outside of the complex, staring up at the building with awe. You were right. No student fresh out of sixth form could afford a place like that. In that part of the city? With a doorman? You breathed out your nerves and rode the elevator up to her flat. Kassandra answered the door with a tired smile and it was maybe the first time you saw the glory of her arms without her jacket. You knew you were gay already but jeez, if you hadn’t before, there would have been no question now.

 

“Can I get you anything? Water? Wine?” she asked as she turned back in to the flat. You blinked in surprise.

 

“You’re offering me alcohol as we start work on a class project?” You watched her shrug as she disappeared into the kitchen.

 

“I will be having some,” her voice floated in to the room. You shook your head in disbelief. Her flat, her rules. You didn’t need to get into it with someone you barely knew. You set your bag down and started to pull your things out as Kassandra re-entered the room, a glass of water in one hand and a really healthy glass of wine in the other. The water was placed in front of you as she took a sip from the wine. You watch in amazement until you remember that you’re staring and that’s a rude thing to do. After clearing the frog in your throat you pick up a pencil to start brainstorming.

 

“So, do you have any ideas of where to start? This is a fairly open-ended assignment so I’m open to everything at the moment,” You jot down a small organizational chart on the page.

 

“I was going to do early Olympic Games during wartime” Kassandra’s easy answer startled you. It would definitely work for the assignment (how time changes historical events), but the conviction behind it caught you off guard.

 

“Oh, that’s…a brilliant idea. Sure, let's do that one” You flip the page in your notebook to scribble her idea at the top.

 

Over the course of a few hours, the project starts to take shape. There are answerable questions, a couple of key points, and Kassandra seems to be engaged and alert, not at all as effected as the lack of wine in her glass should indicate. It was an otherworldly tolerance, but it was also a mystery for another day. By the time you're ready to leave she almost seemed friendly.

 

Working with her was easy. She was easy-going, relaxed, and seemed to pull the weirdest facts from no where. How would anyone know Herodotus preferred figs to any other fruit? You’d never read everything he had written but you were _sure_ that wasn't in there. And yet there was a source just after the note in your shared Google doc. At the very least, it was nice to work with someone who was interested in the topic. There had been too many classes where you had done far more work than your fair share. It was also very nice to look up from your computer screen to see her there. Eye candy was always appreciated.

 

You were working at the library together when someone else thought so too.

 

“I think we need to start on the winners. The events were different, sure, but those who won them-” You’re cut off when a boy you recognized from Student Leadership plopped himself down in the open chair nearest to Kassandra, a charming grin on his face. She refused to look at him, keeping her focus on you even as you stumbled through the rest of your sentence. “-the winners uh, may tell us what kind of people they encouraged to participate-”

 

“Hey, I’m George. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you before. What course are you in?” he asked, leaning closer.

 

“How deep in to their histories do you want to know? Family history or just trades?” Kassandra asked you as she tapped a few keys on her laptop. The boy - George - blinked in surprise at her blatant dismissal of him. He seemed to shake it off pretty quickly because it was barely a second later that his face contorted into something monstrous. He grabbed her shoulder.

 

“Hey, I was talking to you-” Faster than you could blink, Kassandra had wrenched his hand back into a painful position and stared blankly into his face as he shrieked with pain. You couldn't be sure whether or not you were happy you were virtually alone in this part of the library.

 

“You were not ’talking’, you were interrupting. Now, you can apologize and walk away, or I will break your foot and you will not be able to” The deceptive calm of her voice was overridden by her foot hovering just above his. You had no doubt that she would do it and it was the first time you had looked at Kassandra and thought ’she really is dangerous’. George seemed to agree as he mumbled and apology and scrambled away. Kassandra didn’t even watch him leave before turning back to you. “I will put down just their trades for now and we can come back to that later.”

 

“Do you want to go for drinks with me and my mates later?” you blurted. You could feel your face warm at the confusion on her face, but didn’t try and take it back. She was really, _really_ cool and you wanted to be friends. Slowly, though the thoughts were hardly transparent on her face, she seemed to come around to the idea.

 

“Sure,” she smiled, “sounds fun.”

 

Your friends loved her as you expected. Even though she was reserved and mysterious as always, she took part in conversation, drank, and joked. Her legendary alcohol made another appearance as she easily drank twice the amount that had your mates slumping in their seats. Watching the way she laughed at their sloppy gestures you couldn't help but think this was barely the tip of the iceberg for her. Kelly elbowed your side with a grin and a wink.

 

“You tryin to get in on that?” she teased. You laughed and shrugged. Usually, absolutely, but there was something about Kassandra you just wanted to understand.

 

“I think not” Your reply earned impressed (and obviously skeptical) raised eyebrows. Okay, so what if it was a little out of character for you? Some things were not meant to be pursued, too close and you'd burn, like Icarus and the sun.

 

That night, even through your exhausted buzz, you wanted to at least glance at the work you'd agreed on while studying earlier. You found a list of Pankration winners and chuckled to yourself upon realizing just how many of them were Spartan until the laughter died abruptly in your throat. In the middle of the list was an unexpected sight.

 

_Kassandra of Sparta (W) v Dorieus of Rhodes_

 

Not only had a woman competed during a time where that was not allowed, but she had won? _And_ her name was the same as her project partner's? Maybe that's why Kassandra had wanted this topic. She wanted to present a strong woman where many had thought not possible. Your hand inched towards your phone to text her before you stopped yourself. It was almost 2 in the morning. You could ask another time. You closed your laptop and went to sleep.

 

Things fell into a rhythm after that. The two of you would often work on your project and then join your friends for whatever night activity London had to offer that night. You still had yet to see her actually drunk or really lower her guard, but she seemed to like everyone and humored them when they tried to arm wrestle her (your friends were the type to get competitive when drunk).

 

She joined in even on lower key nights spent at someone's flat playing board games or watching movies. The only ones she didn't like were the ones made by Abstergo Entertainment. She never gave a reason why, but her lips always thinned and turned downward whenever their movies were pulled up on screen. The times afterward where everyone was just sitting around relaxing saw her at her most pliant.

 

“My brother is a banker. Makes so much money, I'm so jealous”

 

“Mine's a twat”

 

“Glad I'm an only child” You listened as your friends complained about their families, just drunk enough to loosen their tongues and say things they might not otherwise. You laughed at Jess's comment and glanced over to see the wistful look on Kassandra's face.

 

“How about you?” She didn't look up as she smiled ruefully.

 

“I had two brothers and a sister” The room silenced immediately at the past-tense. “I was the oldest. Alexios was so small when he was a baby. I didn't even know Stentor or Phiobe when they were babies, they were adopted much later. I loved them all the same” You could see her imagining them, getting lost in the memories of her siblings and who they had been.

 

“I'm sure they knew that” you tried to reassure. She nodded.

 

“Yes, but I could have said so more often, especially Phiobe. She was so young when she-” Kassandra's eyes were wet when she stood and set down the beer bottle. “Please excuse me” You waited a whole thirty seconds before following her into the kitchen. She wasn't crying, but she didn't seem far off. The two of you just stood there quietly for a moment.

 

“Do you want to leave? I think the snow might be letting up now” you offered. Her eyed flitted to the window behind you and she nodded. The two of you said your goodbyes and stepped out into the lazily falling snow. Your flat wasn't far, so you set a slow pace to keep her company for as long as you could. You glanced over every now and again, but for the most part let Kassandra stew in her memories. You may have never lost a sibling, let alone three, but you knew that most people needed a minute after bringing up lost family.

 

The front of your building came on much too fast. There was no hurry to disappear into the realize warmth of your flat and Kassandra seemed content to just stand there. She seemed ethereal in the moment; surround by slow falling snow and bathed in the soft light of the street lamps. This was an image of her you wanted to preserve for forever.

 

“You know,” Kassandra began as she scratched the back of her neck, “I never saw snow until I reached my thirties. I can still never get used to the sight of it.” She held her hand out to catch a few flakes and watch them melt in her palm. Still, you stayed silent. “Alexios and I were left for dead as children. Our mother found him and did everything she could to keep him alive only to believe she had lost him. I was raised by a conman and found Phiobe when she was much too young. She idolized me and I did not do enough for her. When I left them in search of my father, I found that he had adopted Stentor who hated me for things I had not done. And then I found Alexios, brainwashed and strong. He was so sure and so wrong about the things he thought he knew. It was years before he even entertained the notion that the people who raised him were monsters”

 

Frustration built on her face and she had to pause, finally dropping her hand to her side with a sigh.

 

“Phiobe was killed because I was just too slow. It was very difficult for my family once we were all back together. My mother and father had not seen each other for twenty years and did not know how to be together again and my brothers hated everything they did not understand, which was a lot” she huffed out a laugh. “I do not know why I am in such a mood to remember tonight, but I thank you for making the escape easy” You shrugged and offered a smile.

 

“It's what friends do” She smiled in turn and nodded into the empty street. The drifting snow muffled every other sound of the city to the point where the two of you may have been the only two people alive.

 

“Friends are good. Rest well tonight” You watched her walk for longer than you’d ever admit. She always walked with a confidence and sense of purpose that you weren’t sure you’d ever seen in anyone else. It was mesmerizing. Eventually however, her shape melted into the night and you were forced to go upstairs for bed.

 

You found yourself watching her more over your laptop or from the corner of your eye. She had to have known as you are not a subtle person, but she never said anything. She didn’t speak about her family again, not even in little quips or mentions. She did talk about the conman who had raised her - Markos, she had let slip. She talked about the harebrained schemes he would come up with to keep food on the table and how they inevitably failed. She talked about the beautiful island she grew up on and the places she had been since (which was a truly staggering number). Once you started to keep a list of her travels, the page filled up faster than even your class notes. She had genuinely been everywhere.

 

“Why are you here?” You blurted in the middle of her telling a story about an Icelandic adventure. She paused and frowned in confusion. “I mean, why are you _here_ , at Saint Mary’s of London? This can’t have been your best option. And why now? Why not at the age everyone usually goes? I don’t mean to be rude, I’m just…confused” you trailed off, your heart beating loudly in your chest. Kassandra has become a good friend and if you’d just scared her off by jumping down her throat, it would hurt to lose her. Oddly enough, she just shrugged.

 

“For most of my life education was not really an option. Now it is. I chose London because I was already here, and Saint Mary’s because I could take history classes in my first semester. There isn’t all the much to it. Did I answer all of your questions?” She asked in amusement. _Hardly_ you thought privately. Out loud you only nodded with an affirmative hum. Kassandra took it (or let it drop) and turned back to her computer, typing away. “Great, because we are finishing this project today, one way or another”

 

The project did get finished. It was good too, full of well-made points, accurate information, and some new facts for most of the class. The presentation was easy between the two of you taking turns for each couple of slides and it was clear the professor was impressed, judging by the look on his face. It was gratifying to see something you’d worked so hard on take such a nice shape. It took courage later when at celebratory drinks you asked with hesitance “We can still be friends right? I know after a project most people aren’t but…” You shrugged and hoped you got your point across. She laughed and nodded.

 

“Of course, I said before, didn’t I? Friends are good” Classes went a little easier from then on. Kassandra became a friend and study buddy, no longer the project partner who you got on with. She knew almost everything, including how best to help you study and the fact that she didn't really need to. It just meant that when you went for drinks, you were busy running through facts in your head and half out loud (you tried to ignore her occasional corrections) while she spent most of the night fending off suitors. After she smiled politely and declined another woman you had to know.

 

“Okay, who are you in to?” She raised an amused eyebrow. “I've seen you turn down some beautiful women and even though I am gay, I know when a man is attractive and there have been a few of those as well. So what is it? Are you not interested in a night with anyone?” you huffed. You could still watch the last woman walk away she was _staggering_ and Kassandra didn't want anything to do with her? Absurd. She shrugged.

 

“I have been married before and I don't need pointless drunk encounters. Did _you_ plan on leaving with someone tonight? You have an exam in the morning”

 

“No, but that's not- you were _married_?” Why was almost every sentence out of this woman's mouth a bombshell?

 

“Yes and she was lovely. I don't need to do it again. Should I be 'wing-manning' for you? I should be. I will” You reached out and grabbed Kassandra's arm to stop whatever that train of thought was.

 

“No, you can't just say that and move on. What was her name? How did you meet?” You could feel the urgency in your voice and see it reflected in the humor of your friend's voice as she answered you.

 

“Well if you _must_ know, her name was Kyra. She threw a knife at my head. She said she missed on purpose, but I think she was just very drunk”

 

“She threw a-” You shook your head. Your alcohol addled mind could not process the thought of marrying someone who threw a knife at your head. Kassandra waved away your concern.

 

“She was drunk and she never did it again. Hardly the first or last time someone threw something sharp at me. She was very beautiful and loved to stand toe-to-toe with anyone who thought her unworthy”

 

“Of what?” Another laugh.

 

“Anything”

 

"Where is she? Why aren't you with her now?” When you woke up in the morning, you would cringe at the thought of asking that, but now you were well on your way to drunk and Kassandra seemed okay.

 

"We decided it was best I move on. Love is good and important, but it is never the only factor. After all, in the end Hades claims everyone" You would only remember half of her answer later, after pain killers and a full glass of water. But Kassandra had a wife. Did she ever run out of secrets. You thought about her standing there in the snow that night after talking about her family and decided no, there would never be a time when you knew even half of who she was. That idea only further cemented when a man approached you outside of the library.

 

"Excuse me," you lifted your head from your phone at the intrusion to find a bespectacled man smiling at you. The smart button-down shirt and the sweater-vest were disarming, but you kept on your toes. "Do you know Kassandra? I thought I might be able to find her here" red flags shot up in your head, so you stayed cautious.

 

"Why? Who are you?" you asked.

 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm Shaun, I'm an old friend of hers. I lost her number, but I needed to contact her, so I thought finding her at school would be my best chance" You were about to tell him off when someone else did that for you.

 

"Shaun. Get away from her now or I will cut you from eye to stomach" Kassandra's voice thundered across the small courtyard and she stalked towards him, her face set in fury.

 

"Ah, Kassandra! I'm only here to talk to you-"

 

"You want me in or you don't. You don't get to have me when your people can't get something done. Leave"

 

"You know your time is running out"

 

"And I am determined to enjoy what is left of it without the interference of the Brotherhood. Leave" She put her body between you and Shaun, her shoulders tense and her legs set into a wide stance, ready to fight. Shaun took the hint.

 

"Alright, no need to get aggressive. We both know you wouldn't have any trouble taking me out. At least take my card this time. And maybe at least answer when I call, I don't do it all that much. About as much as an absentee father really, so when it comes down to it, almost never-"

 

"Get. Out." Kassandra bit out the words like they were physically painful. Shaun held up his hands in a placating gesture and stepped backwards for a few feet before turning and walking towards the edge of campus grounds. For a long while, Kassandra stood there, staring after him like she was waiting for him to turn back around and demand something of her. Eventually you gathered up enough courage to call out to her gently. There was no response.

 

“Kass?” A little louder this time. “Who was he?”

 

“He was no one,” she turned abruptly on her heel towards the library doors, “forget about him.” She lightened up as you studied, but you could still see the cloud hanging over her as she read. You couldn’t exactly shake it either. Her time was running out? She wanted to enjoy what was left of her time? They spoke like she was going to die soon. You looked up from your notecards. Other than the clear frustration on her face, she looked fine, perfectly healthy. Nothing made sense.

 

It was clear, however, that the encounter shook her. She was more restless and sometimes you would get to class and find her seat beside yours empty. She never talked about it, you never asked about it. Things didn’t change dramatically, as she still mumbled to herself in odd languages, still saying things that made no sense, and being generally nonchalant  about the things she told you. It was almost two months after Shaun that she invited you to her flat for dinner. You blinked in surprise when she opened the door in a suit.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, should I have worn a dress?” You ask, forcing yourself to ignore how she looked. She laughed and shook her head.

 

“No, I’m sorry, I have a flight to catch after dinner and I didn’t want to think about changing my clothes while being on time” she explained. You followed her into the kitchen to find a truly beautiful meal set up on the table. Each dish was a different color and texture and your mouth was certainly watering.

 

“Wow. I should really be less surprised that you were married. You can cook too” She shrugged and held up a bottle of wine for you. At your acceptance. She poured it into your glass.

 

“It was just something I’ve picked up over time. You know what they say; variety is the spice of life” The two of you settled in to you your chairs and dug in. Each bite was an adventure on it’s own: an explosion of flavor and you almost wanted to cry. This woman was perfect.

 

After the small talk of your days and finishing the food, Kassandra leaned back in her chair.

 

“I wanted to thank you” she said softly. You swallowed your mouthful of wine.

 

“What for?”

 

“You may not believe me when I tell you this, but I am very old and my life has been very lonely. Finding people to spend time with whose company I enjoy is not always easy. So thank you for being that for me” Something about the way she spoke felt final and you didn’t like it.

 

“Of course. What’s brought this on?” you ask.

 

“This is the last time you will ever see me. I wanted to say goodbye in person before I left” You balked at her answer. “I’m going home to stay, finally. I felt that I owed it to you not to just disappear” The suddenness of the announcement was impossible to digest in the few short seconds you had. She was leaving? And she was sure she would never be back? “The apartment and everything in it is yours too. It’s all paid off, do as you wish with it” She stood up from the table and began piling up dishes, placing them in the sick and finding Tupperware lids for the uneaten food.

 

“You’re just…going?” The words felt dry in your throat. Why could Kassandra never make sense? She exhaled heavily and turned to face you.

 

“It’s time” You hated that she smiled. You hated that she was so relaxed. You hated that it felt like she was leaving to die. She pushed away from the counter and straightened her suit jacket before giving you one final grin and heading towards the door. “May we meet again in the fields of Elysium” The door shut with a wild sense of finality.

 

You never did see her again.

 

Life continued on mostly as normal as it had been. You went to class, you hung out with your friends, normal things. Someone occasionally asked you where your fit friend was, but that was the extent of it. You moved in to her flat (only a fool would turn down a free flat in that area and you were no fool) and sold off a few things here and there. For the most part, it didn't feel like your life had been flipped upside down.

 

There was a box hidden on a bookshelf that you didn't find until summer. It was a plain wood, but aged into a dark tone that was smooth under your fingertips. It slid open with no resistance and inside you found photographs, letters, and small trinkets. Resting right on top was a circular shield-like pin the size of your palm, rusted with age, but lovingly cared for. You reached in to pull out a few of the photos and the box tilted in your hand, causing something to roll at the bottom. You fished it out and found a small black ball. Only, it’s not a ball. It’s…an eye? You put that back down.

 

The photos were barely cohesive, but they all seemed to have Kassandra with a different group of people, all dressed in different outfits. You could recognize one from the eighties, a couple from the fifties, and one from the Edwardian era? Some of them were in different places. One is clearly recognizable as France and another as a southeast Asian country, possibly Thailand if your cousin's own holiday pictures were anything to go by.

 

Kassandra looked the same in all of them. Wherever, whenever she was, she looked godly godly and well put together with her typical side braid. The box had impossibly old coins that slid along the bottom along with what could only be letters. Of course, you couldn’t read them, the language barrier and the age of the papers had made them fragile and lightened the ink in some places, but that didn’t stop you from finding a few royal seals and a few eerily real looking signatures. All of them were addressed to Kassandra, that you could tell with no problem.

 

The box made your head spin so you set it aside for another time. You never really come back to it. It sits there on a self as you bustle around trying to graduate and get a job and live your life. Both it and your friend visit your thoughts every now and again, but, like her, they never stay around for long and eventually they stop being so unshakable.

 

And Kassandra slips away to rest.

**Author's Note:**

> this all stemmed from wanting to see kass in a white tshirt and jeans sorry but also 2500 years changes a person so ooc who? ask why i did things on tumblr


End file.
